


One Rainy Evening

by SGALOVER



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fix-It, Leonard Snart Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 00:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14032389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SGALOVER/pseuds/SGALOVER
Summary: Leonard Snart, while running from some of Savage's goons, finds a place to hide.  Little does he know how much this one meeting will change his intended future.





	One Rainy Evening

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know I have other stories to work on. But it's taking me a while so I decided to post something a little older. I hope you all like it.

Len swore as his left leg gave a painful throb. His footsteps faltered and he landed against an alley wall. Len took a few moments to let the pain dull and catch a few deep breaths. He looked over his shoulder and swore again when he heard the sounds of his pursuers. Damn Savage and his efficient task force. Why couldn't they just be rent-a-muscle?! Len's eyes scanned the small alley, blinking the falling rain from his eyes. He felt hope flare in his chest at the sight of an old wooden door. Without waiting he reached for the knob and almost laughed when it turned. He stumbled through the door and closed it tightly while leaning against it. The room he found himself in wasn't much to look at. It looked like someone's personal office. A desk covered in papers, a kitchenette area, and a few overstuffed armchairs. There were also a few empty wine bottles alone with a half empty cup of tea. The light was coming from a small fireplace which was burning brightly despite the fact that it's wood supply was mostly ash.

Before Len could consider his next course of action the door to the small room opened and a voice floated in, “All I'm saying is that it's important to tip.” it sounded worried, the British accent only highlighting this

“And all I'm saying is that we shouldn't tip if we don't really pay in the first place.” a second male voice replied sounding slightly annoyed

Len had no time to even try and hide as the two men entered and froze at the sight of him. Len was sure he must look a little intimidating. His clothing was covered in dirt and ash while his face held the half healed bruises from his talk with Mick. But instead of reacting in any sort of hysterical manner the first man to enter spoke. His voice pegged him as the first person Len had heard. He looked about 40 or so. His hair was bright blond and curling over the tips of his ears. His blue eyes were sparkling inquisitively from behind wire rimmed glasses His outfit was nothing but plaid and wool. He looked like some sort of librarian. And he sounded like one too when he asked with a kind smile, “Can I help you with something young man?”

Len just blinked, his brain unable to process such a response. The second man snorted with slight amusement. He was like the first man's opposite. His hair was dark and fashionably styled. He wore a tailored suit of deepest black only contrasted by a blood red tie. His thin lips were curled up in amusement but Len couldn't tell if his eyes mirrored it due to the expensive looking sunglasses covering them, “Articulate burglar isn't he?”

Len frowned, “I'm not here to steal anything.” he hissed as his leg gave a viscous throb that caused him to slide a bit down the door at his back

The light one's eyes widened, “Oh dear, are you hurt?” he made to step forward, hands already outstretched

The dark one grabbed his friend's arm, “Hold it Aziraphale. Take a closer look at him.” the voice was no longer amused but suspicious

The light one paused and squinted. Then he gasped, “My word. What is all of that?”

“No idea.” the dark one said and Len felt more then saw the man's eyes narrow behind his sunglasses, “He doesn't feel like one of mine though.”

“Nor one of mine.” the light one shook off his friend's grip, “Regardless, he is in need of help.” he approached slowly and gave a kind smile, “Let me help you in to a chair. You look like standing is causing you some trouble.”

Len looked at the offered hand before him for a few moments before he reached out to take it. For some reason he felt like this man was...safe. The man was stronger than he looked because he practically took all of Len's weight on the way to one of the overstuffed arm chairs. Len couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as he laid back into the plush cushions. That sense of ease was ripped away instantly when a loud banging came on the back door and a deep voice called through the wood, “Open up! This is the Police!”

Len snorted at the very idea. Sure they had badges. But that didn't mean they were real. He stiffened when the dark man walked swiftly across the room to the door. The light one shifted so he was standing in the way of the door, blocking Len from view. Len heard the door open and the dark man's voice asked cheerfully, “Yes, can I help you officers?”

“We're looking for an escaped prisoner. He's average height, white, with a shaved head. He would have been limping badly.” a gruff voice replied

The light man spoke, “A fugitive, my word. Is he very dangerous?”

“Very sir.” a different voice replied, “He's armed and considered a cold blooded killer.”

“Well we'll certainly keep an eye out.” the dark man's voice sounded almost like it was cooing and Len's skin prickled with the feel of....something...in the air, “Have a nice night gentlemen.”

“You too sir.” 

The door closed and the light man gave a deep sigh of relief, “My, that certainly was interesting.” a small sniff, “Nasty fellows.”

“Yeah.” the dark man sounded slightly offended, “Makes you wonder why I'm even needed.”

The light man turned and smiled down at Len, “You seem to have attracted the worst sort of trouble young man. How about I make you a cup of tea and we can have a chat about it.”

The dark man scoffed, “He'd probably prefer a real drink Aziraphale.”

“Oh, quite right Crowley dear.” the light one replied

Len at least had names now. He watched Crowley walk over to the chair next to Len's and plop down. He put his feet up on the small table in the center. The firelight shown off the scales of what Len's mind didn't quite accept were snake skin shoes. He was distracted from this when a wine glass was shoved under his nose He took it with a muttered, “Thanks.” and drank half of it in one go. The red liquid was warm and sweet as it dripped down his throat. It was like the alcohol, even such a small amount, was enough to chase the chill of the rainy night from his bones.

“You're welcome.” Aziraphale said as he took the last open seat after handing Crowley a glass as well. He shifted, took a sip of his own wine, and then asked, “What's your name?”

“Leonard Snart.” Len answered without thinking. He stiffened, off kilter, but then relaxed again It was like the very atmosphere was against him being anything but calm, “What are you doing to me?” his usual threatening tone was missing because even if he noticed the emotional manipulation he couldn't fight it enough to truly care

Aziraphale raised a surprised eyebrow, “I'm sorry?”

“Why am I not...me?” he couldn't think of any other way to put it

Crowley chuckled and Len turned to face him, “Oh, it must be that stuff. It's causing...interference.” Crowley leaned forward and licked his lips. Len saw his own nervous expression reflected back at him in those ever present sunglasses. That tongue had been...odd, “What are you?”

“I...” Len wasn't really sure how to answer the question. He wasn't even sure himself these days. He wasn't really a thief anymore, nor was he any sort of hero. He wasn't even anyone's partner right now. He was just, “I'm just a guy.” he took another large sip of wine. The effects of the warmth spread to his limbs. He looked down and gasped softly. His previously dirty, wet clothing was now clean and dry. He looked back at Crowley, “What are you?”

“Your only hope by the looks of things.” Crowley answered, his smirk growing to inhuman proportions, “What did you do that got you in to so much trouble?”

Len opened his mouth to answer and then snapped it shut with all his will power. He refused to succumb to whatever was effecting him, “Stop it.” he also refused to recognize how much that tone sounded like begging

Aziraphale made a distressed sound with his throat and reached out to touch Crowley. The contact made the dark man look away. It was like some sort of pressure had been lifted and Len gave a sigh of relief as Aziraphale started speaking in a worried tone, “He doesn't work like the rest of them. Perhaps not so much dear.”

Crowley sighed and Len was sure he had rolled his eyes, “Fine, I suppose you're right.” a slight wincing motion, “And it does seem a bit...crueler...when they notice.”

“Indeed.” Aziraphale gave a proud smile to his friend and squeezed his arm affectionately

Len wasn't sure whether or not he missed that instant calm now. He was starting to realize exactly what his position was. He had limped into a strange home while being pursued by angry bad guys. Now he was seemingly trapped here with two people who, with every second, Len was sure were not in fact people at all. They had powers that could control emotions. Maybe even the very mind itself. They had the power to dry his clothing and make his leg less painful. In fact...Len reached down to touch his injury. Fingers reached through a damaged pant leg to feel around. The skin was undamaged, the area no longer slick with blood, “You healed me?” he asked with genuine shock

It was now Crowley's turn to look disapproving, though he pulled it off much better, “Angel?”

“Well what was I supposed to do?” Aziraphale said in a whining tone, looking anywhere but at his friend, “Nasty night like this, running around in the rain, it was sure to get infected if something wasn't done.”

“So you just decided to heal all the damages?” Crowley drawled. Aziraphale simply took another sip of his wine and refused to answer. 

Len had grown very good at reading people over the years. He had also learned a variety of ways people acted around others depending on their relationship. While these two screamed couple they also had another variable. Something that separated them on a very personal level, though not an intimate one. Something that set them drastically apart. Based on that alone it was very obvious that while Aziraphale was one for pet names his partner was not. So the term Angel, mixed with everything else that had happened and been observed, drove Len to ask bluntly, “Are you really an Angel?”

\---------------BREAK--------------

Aziraphale sighed as he watched the human sleep in his rarely used bed. Even in sleep there was a pinch to the brow, as if nothing could bring true peace. Without a second thought Aziraphale granted that peace, if only for a moment, and smiled as the lines eased. The last few hours had revealed much. It was not often an Angel could be surprised. He chuckled to himself as he closed the bedroom door, “Time travel.” he said with glee, “I can't wait to see that.”

“Sounds like it might be a while Angel.” Crowley commented from the bottom of the stairs, “What ever shall we do until then?”

“I have a few thoughts.” Aziraphale frowned at the leer Crowley shot him, “Oh please try and stay out of the gutter would you.”

\-------------BREAK---------------

Len blinked his eyes open when he felt a soft hand on his cheek, “You with me Leonard?”

“Sara?” Len blinked against the dim lights and Sara's face came into view, “What are you doing here?”

“We were about to ask you the same question Mr. Snart.” Rip's annoying voice spoke up form somewhere to the left

Len looked around for the first time. He was laying in the middle of the cargo bay. The team all stood around him, their expressions ranging from relived to confused. Len's memories of the nights previous events returned and he sat bolt upright, “Where's the Angel?!” he looked around as if the man would appear out of thin air

“Angel?” Sara asked in concern

Len raised a hand to his head, “I was...” the harder he tried to remember the harder it became, “There were these guys...”

“Yeah, we know.” Mick snapped, “They snatched you up and dragged you off. We were on our way to spring you.”

“Indeed.” Rip interrupted, “But when we came to exit the ship we found you laying here no worse for ware.”

“I don't remember.” Len growled in displeasure, “I managed to get away but I got hit. I should be dead.”

“Well, I say we don't look a gift horse in the mouth.” Ray piped up happily, “I say we have Gideon take a look and if he really is as healthy as he looks we just leave.”

In the end that was exactly what they did. But Len would sometimes dream of golden eyes and the smell of old books.

\--------------BREAK-----------

Len braced for the pain, his eyes tightly shut. There was a loud noise, a slight burning, and then total silence. Len stayed where he was, frozen in time. Trying to understand what had become of him. He jumped a foot in the air when a voice said, “It's alright to move now dear.”

Len opened his eyes and the second he did an entire night of memories forgotten flooded to the front of his mind, “Aziraphale?”

“Told you it wouldn't hold.”

Len turned to see a familiar demon leaning against a shelf of dusty books. He looked remarkably smug, golden eyes practically glowing, “Crowley?” Len looked around at the familiar bookshop, “What is this?”

“What does it look like?” Crowley snarked

“It looks like I'm not dead.” Len said slowly. He looked down at his own shaking hands, “I should be dead.”

“Ah, you see, I don't think that's the right wording.” Len turned to look at Aziraphale at that strange sentence, “It's just, you used the words 'should be'. The actual phrase would be 'I expected to be dead'.” The Angel beamed and spread his arms wide, “But you are not.”

“Obviously.” Crowley drawled

“But why?!” Len snapped, “Not that I'm complaining about being alive. But I was supposed to be blown away. Otherwise the Oculus won't be destroyed. If I'm alive then that means...” Len choked when he suddenly found himself incapable of speech. Only a second later he was nose to nose with an irritated demon

“Look here you ungrateful ssssod.” he hissed, “I wass all for letting you die. But the Angel likessss you, only Manchester knowsss why. Ssssso how about a thank you?”

Len took a step back and for a moment just took in the pair of otherworldly beings. Then he cleared his throat, “Thank you.”

Aziraphale beamed, “You are very welcome my boy.”

Len's mind instantly latched onto the next issue, “What about the team?”

“Oh, I expect they'll have finished up by now.” Crowley said, waving his hand as if to dismiss the entire issue, “No doubt there was a grand battle, your honor avenged and all that heroic nonsense.”

“It isn't nonsense.” Aziraphale argued with a roll of his eyes

“So you say.” Crowley said, though there wasn't much fight in his tone

“But they're fine right?” Len asked, tired of waiting for a good answer

“Yes.” Aziraphale replied, “And I expect they will be returning home very soon.”

“I'm in 2016?” Len asked, eyes drifting to the window. It wasn't worth the effort. The street outside was blocked from view by a thick layer of dust.

“Yes. I took a bit of a short cut. But we did go the long way around to get here in the first place.” Aziraphale answered as he gestured to the back room, “Tea before you go?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed take the time to drop a kudos or write a quick comment. Have a great week everyone!!!!


End file.
